“Everything is So Fleeting…”

“Everything is so fleeting…”

This thought stabbed me as life drained slowly away.

It’s quite surprising what goes through your mind as your blood pools and collects around the shards of glass lying within your crooked gaps on the wet concrete.  Things like, “I wonder what would have happened if I would have been a dentist?”

And “I wanted to at least tell her I loved her.”

And “If I were to raise dogs, I’d raise miniature schnauzers—no, schnauzers of all kinds,”

And “You know what sounds good right now? A grilled cheese sandwich.”

It’s not what you would think, that whole review of one’s life.  I only recall one such episode presenting itself vividly before my mind.  I was jumping off a bridge.  I must have been 9-10 years old.  I was happy. Carefree and happy.  I wore bright red shorts and no shirt and the bridge must have been only 5 or 6 feet high over a small creek but it seemed so high because I was afraid…and exhilarated.  I don’t know why I saw it in 3rd person.  It was like I had a telescope from afar zooming in on my own childhood fun, but I remembered it so vividly that moment.

If you were a bus driver maybe you would crash and crack your skull and if you were a mountain climber there is a good chance you would freeze to death or fall in a crevasse.  But for the rest of us, it’s a question mark, and it won’t be something exotic either.

“No one knows how it will come, it’s NEVER WHAT YOU EXPECT,” I thought.

But all the other thoughts were questions like “I wonder when the last time was when I had my mom’s peanut butter cookies?” and “I hope they forgive me for dying like this.”

Then I might have let out a chuckle.

The last thing that passed into my consciousness before darkness conquered me was:

“Did they kill me because I fell in love or because I told the truth?”

Twain’s wisdom

I swear a lot in real life. I also can be vulgar.   Sometimes that finds its way into my characters’ mouths and deeds.  Sometimes that makes some pieces unfit for certain venues.  When I think about censoring myself to please others I think of what Mark Twain wrote:  “Substitute “damn” every time you’re inclined to write “very;” your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be.”

Then again, I say more than damn.